Read along with the Global Comment editors as we catch up on the news of the day from Rio, the MH370 investigation, and more — and finish off with a bit of of fiction!
All in all, the Etisalat is off to a cracking start as a literary prize.
Luckily enough the wind was on our side and we were travelling at a good speed. I had high hopes, smugly confident about the whole thing. The vampiric weapons had to be good.
On deck, I kept picturing the scene with my father lying dead on the floor, blood streaming out of his stomach. I felt the hate flaring through my body again.
I produced a dagger from my pocket. I grasped it tightly in my hand, the tip of the dagger facing towards my heart.
The water was freezing and my heartbeat was slowing. I was running out of hope.
I was growing really scared… Nothing had gone according to plan.
The man put his hand to his side and brandished a long sword… My father was standing strong, a grin plastered across his face, and no sign of fear in his eyes.
Imam Idris Sultan was unmarried, and for this reason he approved of polygamy. He was a religious figure in “this irreligious society” where polygamy was looked down upon. His open advocacy of the practice allowed the impious to label him “a pervert just like us” — a fact that caused him great agitation. He did …
He just happened to be sixty years younger than everyone else, with blonde hair, fjord-blue eyes, and the body of a Norse warrior. Well, let’s be honest. Not a Norse warrior. More like a Norse warrior’s younger cousin who goes to the gym once and a while, but you know he also likes his peanut butter pancakes. He was gorgeous.